


These Deep, Dark Woods

by callboxkat



Category: Sanders Sides, Sanders Sides (Web Series), Thomas Sanders
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst with a Happy Ending, Giant!Remus, Giant/Tiny, Knight Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, M/M, Mutual Pining, Tumblr Prompt, Villain Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, knight!roman, potion-maker!logan, villain!remus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-22 22:21:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21084026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callboxkat/pseuds/callboxkat
Summary: Logan, a potion maker, decides to head into the notoriously dangerous woods bordering the kingdom to find some rare herbs and minerals for his apothecary. Roman, a knight, insists on accompanying him. They find much more than they bargained for when they encounter Remus, a bloodthirsty giant.





	These Deep, Dark Woods

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the prompt "I need you, I can’t do this without you."  
Sent by @thebadhalfofafandom on tumblr, from a prompt list by @idreaminelectricblue

“Come out, come out wherever you are,” a loud, nasally sing-song voice called out. "I know you're theeerrrre, little bugs!”

Logan caught a glimpse of the speaker through the trees, and couldn’t help but shudder.

The giant had to be at least four times as tall as a human, his skin thick and rough like leather, his eyes glowing an unnatural green. The nightmarish proportions of the thing made it clear that there was troll blood in his ancestry, possibly some ogre as well. The club it hefted easily over his shoulder was fashioned out of a granite boulder, crudely fastened to a tree trunk by a combination of vines, ropes, and barbed wire. Logan could have designed something better in his sleep. But what it lacked in craftsmanship, the weapon made up for in effectiveness.

One good hit, and… Logan shuddered. He didn’t even want to think about it.

He and his companion, Roman, sneaked away through the trees, and pressed themselves against an outcropping of rock, trying desperately not to be spotted. In this endeavor, they were at a bit of a disadvantage, Logan thought, glancing at Roman’s mostly white attire. At least it had gotten dirtied in their escape. Ash and mud streaked across it, dulling the color. It wasn’t much camouflage, but it was better than him running around like a snowman in summer.

“Come on,” Roman hissed, breaking Logan out of his thoughts. He glanced back to make sure that Logan was following him, then began to creep out. He stayed low, crouching among the plants.

“Come on, don’t be that way,” the sickening, horribly loud voice called, echoing through the trees. “Where are you trying to run off to?” He cackled. “Don’t you know what could happen? You could fall and break your legs! You’ll be completely helpless! And then you’d get eaten by birds! Ooh, do you think they’d peck out your eyes first? Or would you get to _watch _the whole thing?” There was a disturbing amount of wonder in the giant’s voice.

Logan’s heart was in his throat. Neither he nor Roman, for all his usual dramatic theatrics, was foolish enough to respond.

A huge _boom!_ echoed through the forest, a tree some distance away falling with the creak of wood, the snapping of twigs, and the alarm call of a bird foolish enough to get that near to the giant’s striking range.

“At least we know where he is,” Logan whispered. Roman silently nodded.

They made it to the next outcropping. At the base of it was the unmistakable impression of an enormous footprint in the mud. The giant—Remus, as he’d gleefully told them was his name—had been here recently. Probably not long before he’d first captured Logan and Roman.

They’d been foolish, Logan could now recognize. No rare herbs and minerals, no amount of money they’d get for the fantastical potions Logan could create, was worth _this_. This deep in the forest, the danger far outweighed the risks. Logan considered himself a smart man; he should have known this. He shouldn’t have made this journey. Not for the money, not for the good work his potions could contribute to. He couldn’t help anyone, especially himself, if he was dead. He regretted ever stepping foot in these deep, dark woods.

More than that, Logan regretted that Roman was here with him. He’d mentioned to the knight—a close acquaintance, the closest thing Logan had to a friend—that he was planning to make this journey. And of course, the confident, chivalrous young man had immediately volunteered to accompany him.

Foolishness.

Logan shouldn’t have let him come. Not that Roman could ever be dissuaded from anything once he’d set his mind to it, but Logan could have tried harder. He _should_ have tried harder.

The two of them had walked right into the woods, right into the danger. Logan had collected his supplies; and despite the sky growing dark, he had decided not only to stay, but to go further into the woods to collect some even rarer specimens. Nothing had happened yet, he had reasoned with himself; and he was clever enough to evade any creatures that happened across them. He’d been naïve. Cocky. Arrogant in his assumptions. He was worse than Roman.

Honestly, it was no wonder that they’d been found, late last night, as Logan lay sleeping. Roman had been on watch, his sword at the ready to face any threats; but even together, even with both of them ready for a fight, they would have been no match for Remus.

…

A shout awakened him, jarring in the calm night, ripping Logan out of his dream. He barely had time to scramble out of his bedding, every nerve in his body electrified, before he was yanked right off of his feet. He was grabbed up in enormous fists, each large enough to swallow his entire arm, struggling as he was lifted into the air. He struggled for the dagger in his coat, but he couldn’t get free enough to reach it.

The giant only laughed, his glowing green eyes boring into him as his pungent smell assaulted Logan’s senses and made his head spin. Logan tried to free himself, looking around frantically. He couldn’t hear Roman anymore, where was _Roman—?!_

Logan couldn’t for the life of him have said what happened next. 

The next thing he knew, he woke up in a cave. For whatever reason, he hadn’t been restrained. He was just lying crumpled on the limestone floor, his head ringing, a sticky feeling coating one side of his head. He couldn’t hear out of that ear. He hoped it was just clogged.

The giant was there, of course. The foul-smelling, foul-mouthed giant was only about ten feet away, tending a fire. He threw in a large branch as Logan watched. Sparks and embers flew through the air, the giant making no effort to keep them from landing on his ragged, filthy clothes. One spot near his knee began to smolder.

“This would be so much more fun with two of you, but oh well! Oopsie! Sometimes I don’t know my own strength, you know?” he had said in that horrible, almost nasal voice. He seemed to be addressing someone on his other side, opposite from where Logan was.

Logan took a second to process, then understood. The giant must have thought that Logan was already dead. This was obviously untrue, but Logan could use this to his advantage. He listened with revulsion as the giant cackled and went on about all the fun he was going to have with his new toy—Roman, of course—before returning to the subject of Logan. Logan tensed, at first, hurriedly closing his eyes for fear that the giant would look at him, but that didn’t happen.

“It’s okay. It’s fine,” the giant rumbled. “I bet his bones will make great toothpicks. Sticks just don’t last nearly as long. Ooh, or _maybe_ I can put him in a jar. Like a pickled specimen! Scientists do that kind of thing, right? I can be a scientist! A mad scientist!”

The giant paused, glancing down to his other side again, where Logan couldn’t see. Logan cautiously began to move.

“You know, I don’t get company that often,” the giant pouted, his mood suddenly changing as he frowned down at the ground where Roman must have been. “Nobody stays very long.”

_Yeah, I bet they don’t,_ Logan thought. Although he doubted it was because they escaped. He hoped, perhaps vainly, that he and his companion might be an exception. He started to creep backwards, away from the giant. The gears turned in his mind, trying to come up with a plan. All he knew was that he had to get Roman and get them both away from this giant before it was too late.

“I’m Remus, by the way!” The giant said proudly, putting one of his gigantic, soot-covered hands to his chest. A bracelet of bones rattled on his wrist.

Logan was far enough away that he dared to push himself to his feet, hoping against hope that the giant wouldn’t turn around and be startled to find that his body was not, in fact, lying in a lifeless heap where he’d left it.

“I don’t care about your name,” a voice responded, cracking with anger and something else. “You are nothing but a villain, a foul, malodorous, evil villain who serves no purpose to society except providing something to vanquish!”

Logan briefly reflected that he hadn’t known Roman knew the word ‘malodorous’, let alone how to use it in a sentence. He might have been impressed, under different circumstances. But, more importantly—the knight had spoken. This was both good news, as it proved he was still alive, and very bad news, as provoking a giant who had already captured them was not the most advisable plan in Logan’s opinion.

“Aw, don’t be like that.” The giant swatted the air. “Who cares about _society?_ Isn’t it much more fun to just do what you want? Whatever you want?”

Logan began creeping around the edge of the cavern. He’d gotten this far, but what then? How was he meant to get to Roman?

He needed to distract the giant.

“Those of us who aren’t _monsters_ don’t find killing _fun_.”

Remus laughed. “Maybe you just haven’t tried it. There’s all sorts of fun ways to do a little killing.”

Logan looked around for any ideas, any inspiration. The cave was empty except for the three of them, the fire, and a pile of what passed for bedding in one corner. Seeing nothing that would help, he looked down at himself, at his dark blue coat. His dagger was still hidden there, by some miracle; but it wouldn’t be of much use now. Logan was more relieved to find that some of his supplies were still on him, judging by the weight of his coat pockets. He wished he had his bag, which held the majority of the herbs and minerals he and Roman had spent the last day collecting, but longing for something he didn’t have only wasted time that he couldn’t afford to spend. He hurriedly looked through his pockets, and his eyes widened as he came across a pouch tied with a red string. Perfect.

Emboldened, Logan crept closer to the giant. To the fire. To Roman.

And he threw the pouch, right into the flames.

There was a brief pause. The giant let out a confused sound, poking at the pouch with a stick.

“Maybe the ceiling’s coming down!” he said cheerfully, apparently thinking it was a rock. “We’ll be crushed like bugs!”

“Greeaaat,” Roman said, in a voice that made it clear he did not find this idea ‘great’.

Logan covered his ears, just in time. The fire exploded. The powder combusted almost instantaneously, throwing sparks and sending the flames flaring about ten feet higher. The giant let out a startled shout and clapped his hands to his ears, jumping to his feet and nearly crushing Logan in the process.

Logan hardly noticed. He was already running full tilt towards Roman. The knight was tied up like an insect in a spider’s web, ropes wrapping around him in a cocoon. There was a bruise on his face, but he didn’t seem too badly hurt. His eyes widened, his mouth falling open in shock and joy at seeing the potion maker.

“I thought you were dead,” he said, just a little bit too loud. Logan paid him no mind, glancing over to make sure that the giant was still preoccupied with getting his fire back under control. He kept saying something about burning, but Logan didn’t care to hear more detail. As long as he was distracted, that was all Logan cared about.

Logan tugged at the ropes, then shook his head, snatching his dagger from his coat. He unsheathed it and slashed neatly through the ropes, careful not to cut Roman as he did so; and he yanked the other to his feet. They ran.

…

“FEE, FIE, FOE, FUM!” the giant called, slamming his feet down on the ground with each step. “Come on out and let’s have some _fun!_”

_No, thank you_, Logan thought. He was very much not interested in this giant’s brand of “fun”.

He and Roman were running through the forest, uncertain and almost uncaring if they were going in the right direction or not. They couldn’t see the sky, blocked by all the trees, and they didn’t have time to find a clearing. Logan didn’t even know what time it was, anyway. Their timepieces were long gone, left at the campsite that Remus had invaded, and Logan wasn’t sure how long he had been unconscious. Logan had his hand fastened in Roman’s coat, not wanting to get separated. Whenever the giant paused to listen, the forest was eerily quiet save for his and Roman’s footsteps and panting. Logan hoped the monstrosity’s hearing wasn’t as magnified as his size.

Logan wondered if the giant was the reason why he and Roman hadn’t encountered any other beasts in this part of the woods. No wolves, bears, or even the more supernatural monsters. It seemed the giant drove them all away simply by existing. Or perhaps he had simply killed them all already.

“Come on, come on,” Roman panted. Not a moment later, the knight’s foot caught on something—whether it was a tree root or a rock, Logan would never know—and they both went down, sent sprawling in the brambles. Logan coughed, his already sore head spinning. He got to his feet, looking down to where Roman lay, rubbing a fresh bruise on his temple, practically on top of the one already there. He looked dazed.

“Aha!!” the giant cried. Logan’s blood turned to ice.

“Let’s go,” Logan said, reaching out a hand. His breath came in short gasps.

Roman blinked slowly, then shook his head to clear it. “Yeah—yeah, let’s go.”

Logan hauled him to his feet, and they were off again. Their feet were clumsy, and Logan distantly realized that his head wound had reopened, leaving a trail of blood droplets in their wake.

If they could just get out of the woods, they would be fine. No supernatural creature dared face the settlement’s protections. The walls and protective enchantments, the sentries with rifles and swords and bows and arrows at the ready, the promise of a swift end to any monster who dared approach, were all effective deterrents to any threat. They just had to get there.

But Logan’s vision was growing fuzzy. The world passed by in a blur, going in and out of focus without his control. His grip slipped on Roman’s jacket, but he fastened it back on with a renewed determination.

Even despite the adrenaline coursing through their veins, their desperation to escape, to _live_, Roman’s and Logan’s injuries and exhaustion were clearly getting to them. Their pace slowed. It slowed, it slowed, it slowed. Logan tried to keep going, one hand pressed to his head, the other holding on to Roman, but he couldn’t increase his pace no matter how hard he tried. He felt lightheaded, his limbs not listening to the commands his mind screamed at them.

He stumbled, and he fell.

“Logan!”

He was up again, they were hurrying through the trees—were they growing sparser? He couldn’t say for sure—and Logan hardly knew where to run. Roman led him on, an arm around his back.

A snap. A laugh.

The giant appeared, off to their left. His poisonous green eyes took up all of Logan’s fading vision. He swallowed the bile rising in his throat.

“There you are! Oh, there you are! My new friends!”

Logan had never been so disgusted at the idea of being called a “friend”.

“I missed you,” the giant whined, heedless of the fact that Roman and Logan had both stepped back, Roman stumbling slightly even as he helped Logan keep his balance. “But I’m afraid I have to kill you now.” He raised his club, his lips cracking apart into a gray-toothed grin. “Don’t worry! It’ll be exciting! It’ll be so fun; you’ll be like meat pancakes!”

With that grisly thought, the giant brought down the club.

Logan felt himself being yanked backwards and heard a loud crack, but the pain that exploded in his right leg drowned out any coherent thought. He lay on the ground, the wind knocked out of him, crying out in agony as he held onto his leg. Tears of pain sprung up in his eyes.

“Get back!” The voice forced itself into Logan’s awareness, slicing through the fog of pain that hung there.

Roman. That was Roman.

He forced himself to focus on the sight before him. The giant’s club lay on the ground, the boulder separated from the broken tree trunk by the force of it slamming into the earth. Roman stood between Logan and the giant, wielding a weapon that seemed pathetically small in comparison—Logan’s dagger, when had he gotten that?—and staring down the beast.

The giant laughed and stepped forward. There was a burning smell in the air. Was that from Logan’s concussion, or the giant?

Certainly the giant, he decided, taking in the crumbling black edges of the giant’s robes, the missing patch of hair. Logan’s makeshift bomb had apparently caused more damage than he’d foreseen, but not enough. Not nearly enough.

Roman slashed the giant across the palm, which was about as effective as a deep papercut. Regardless, the giant yelped and stepped back, rubbing at his hand with a wounded look.

“That’s not very nice,” he said. “I was just trying to crush you!”

Logan’s leg was definitely broken. He couldn’t move his foot, could barely bear to look at the leg. Roman glanced back at him for a split second, his face blanched white, making the bruises stand out all the more vividly.

“Oh, you’re alive!” the giant cried, seeming to notice Logan for the first time as he followed Roman’s gaze. “I get to kill you twice! That never happens!”

“And it won’t!” Roman declared.

This was madness. Roman couldn’t save Logan from the giant. He couldn’t even walk! Roman should get out of here!

But he couldn’t, Logan reflected, even alone, unless Logan did something. Roman needed an opportunity to escape with his life, to escape from Logan’s foolhardy decisions. Logan could provide that, as a sort of apology for bringing him on this doomed quest.

Logan looked around. There were a few more outcroppings of rock around, more trees. More of the same. He patted at his pockets, at the meager supplies that had survived their capture and desperate rush through the woods, looking for something, anything that would help. His hands brushed past a bundle of leaves and closed on another packet of powder. This one was nothing special. It wouldn’t cause an explosion, or knock out the giant, or anything like that. But… it might provide another distraction. If used correctly.

Logan swallowed thickly.

“Hey, Re—Remus?” he called out. His voice sounded strange to his own ears. “I have something to show you. You’ll… you’ll like it. It’s… nasty, and gross. Just like you.”

Remus narrowed his eyes warily, sensing a trick, but the promise of seeing something as nasty and gross as himself clearly won him over. He crouched down, getting so close that Logan could feel his rancid breath blow back his hair, drying the blood on his face. “Show me,” he crooned.

“Of course.” Logan threw the packet as hard as he could, and it exploded in the monster’s face. Remus howled, rearing back, clawing dust from his eyes.

Roman took his cue. But—no! Roman was hauling Logan back to his feet, heaving him upright with his hands under his arms. That wasn’t how this was supposed to go!

He was being dragged through the forest, beating against Roman’s arms, crying out that Roman should leave him behind, save himself! He pounded on Roman’s chest, his legs, whatever he could reach, angry that he was too weak to fight the knight off.

“I can’t even walk!” he protested.

“But I can!” Roman said. “I can walk for both of us! Dammit, Logan, I am _not_ leaving you here to die! I—I _need _you! I can’t do this without you!”

Logan’s protests stuttered to a halt. What on earth could that mean? Why would Roman need him? They were just… just close acquaintances—they talked, they saw each other around quite a lot, he supposed, Roman always needing some kind of poultice or potion for a training injury, or Logan running into the knight on his patrol while he ran errands, but they weren’t _friends_, let alone anything closer. They didn’t _need _each other. Did they?

And what exactly couldn’t Roman do without him? He could surely escape without him. The logical thing to do would be to leave Logan behind, allow the giant to capture him, and use the time this gave him to escape. That had been Logan’s plan. Hastily thrown together or not, it should have worked. But Roman clearly didn’t intend to follow it.

Finally realizing that fighting Roman would only result in them both getting killed, the injured potion maker gave in. Roman’s stubbornness wouldn’t let him give up on his decision to save Logan, however rash and reckless. So, Logan did his best to run. His broken leg was completely useless, and his head was spinning, but with him hopping along, and Roman’s support, they made progress.

The giant roared obscenities behind them, crashing erratically through the trees, and proved to be an excellent motivator for them to keep going.

Logan wasn’t sure how long they ran. Time slipped between his fingers, his vision fading and coming back into focus at odd intervals. The only constants were the fear, the feeling of Roman’s arm wrapped around him, and the agony of his leg as it dragged along behind him.

After a while, Logan felt like he was floating, tethered to his body like a kite on a string.

“There it is!” Roman said. “Do you see it? There’s the tree line. We’re almost there, buddy. Just a little further!”

“Almost there, buddy,” Logan echoed, the words slurring.

Maybe he was hallucinating, but Logan thought he saw blue sky up ahead, between the trees. A castle in the distance. He could have sworn he heard a horse whinnying. There weren’t horses in the woods.

Roman was shouting something, but Logan couldn’t understand the words.

Crashes sounded behind them. Angry shouts. Something fell heavily just behind him, shaking the ground and Logan’s fragile hold on reality.

He thought he heard more voices. The screech of metal on metal. Hoofbeats. Maybe even gunfire. Was that real? Or was it just the result of the last misfires of his dying brain trying to make sense of what was happening to it?

Logan’s vision faded to black.

…

Logan peeled open his eyes. He found himself laying down, facing upwards. A stone ceiling was above him, dust motes spinning in the golden light illuminating the pale gray stones. His sore head throbbed in time with his heartbeat.

Logan turned his head, wincing at the soreness in his neck. The bandages wrapped around his skull made a soft sound as they shifted against his pillow.

There was a gasp. “Does my favorite nerd stir? You’re finally back in the land of the living!”

Roman sat in the bed beside Logan’s, shirtless, a young woman applying a poultice to a pattern of dark bruises across his rib cage. His ankle was propped up on a pillow, wrapped up in bandages. His face was still bruised, his lip scabbed where it had been split; but his green eyes—a soft, moss green, not at all like the sinister glow of the giant’s—were bright.

Logan tried to say something, but the words caught in his throat, and he started coughing. The woman—Valerie, Logan remembered her name was, a doctor who frequented his apothecary—quickly reached for a glass of water on the table between the two beds.

“Careful now,” she said. “Have some water.”

She lifted the glass to Logan’s lips, and he drank, forcing his heavy arms to respond and help hold the drink steady. The cool water felt heavenly on his dry tongue and throat.

“Better?”

Logan nodded. “Thank you,” he managed.

Valerie smiled. “No problem at all.” She glanced towards Roman, who was looking at her meaningfully. “I’ll… leave you two alone for a moment, then, unless you need something, sir?”

“No, thank you, doctor,” Logan said. “I will be fine for a moment.”

“Alright, then. I’ll be back to check on you later.”

Once she was gone, Roman left his bed and limped over to Logan’s to help him sit up. Logan couldn’t help but look down at himself, even though he feared what he would find. His leg was splinted and heavily bandaged. But at least it was still there. And the two of them were still alive.

“They say you’ll probably need a cane,” Roman admitted, following his gaze. “We’ll get you a nice, stylish one. People will think it’s just part of your whole apothecary vibe.”

“How long have I been asleep?” Logan asked, frowning.

“A couple of days. Ever since the giant….” He shuddered. “Anyway. You’ve got a concussion—twinsies—and you lost a lot of blood. But Valerie says that you shouldn’t have any kind of permanent damage, other than the limp. And for now, you get to take some killer pain meds. I’m almost jealous.”

“I’m sorry,” Logan said.

Roman knitted his eyebrows together. “What? Why are you sorry?”

“You’re hurt because of me,” Logan pointed out. “It was my plan to go into the woods. My plan to fetch those supplies, even knowing the risks—”

“You didn’t know about that giant.”

“I knew about the monsters in the woods. I knew that the sentries and the walls and the enchantments were there for a reason. I knew that it was dangerous.”

“Logan.”

“You could have died, because of _me—_”

“But I didn’t,” Roman said, holding up a hand to stop him. “I am very much still alive.”

Logan sighed. He picked at the thin wool blanket lying across his lap. “And the giant, then, it’s…?”

“Dead,” Roman assured. “As dead as we would have been if you didn’t distract him so we could get out of there. As dead as _you _would have been if I hadn’t—gods, Logan, why did you want me to leave you behind? Did you really think I’d ever do something like that to you? You’re my—” he cut himself off, the tips of his ears reddening.

Logan watched him for a moment. Then, cautiously, he spoke. “Roman, you asked the doctor for a moment alone with me. May I ask why?”

Roman was silent for a moment. Finally, he looked up at him, staring at him with those soft green eyes. Logan’s breath was short, although he wasn’t quite sure why.

Roman hesitated, looking up at the ceiling. He swallowed, as if to steel his resolve. “Because… we need to talk.”

Logan watched him for a long moment. Roman stared back at him in silence. Something settled in his chest. Something that, perhaps, Logan had been denying for a long time.

Yes, Logan thought. Maybe they did need to talk.


End file.
